Remembrance
by Nyaliss
Summary: A piece about mothers and daughters.


Title: Remembrance  
  
Author: Dina  
  
E-mail: nyaliss@hotmail.com  
  
Disclaimer: I do not, I never have and never will own Sailor Moon.   
  
Life is unfair like that. -__-  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Dedicated to my mother and every woman who has ever loved and been   
  
loved by a child. There are many stories like this one, some might   
  
even say there are too many like it; however, most of us will find   
  
ourselves doing the same thing and, perhaps, thinking some of the   
  
same thoughts. It doesn't quite express all that I wish to, but it   
  
is still more than enough.  
  
I miss you mom.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
. . .for you. . .  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"  
  
I shifted my weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, wondering why   
  
the first words out of my mouth were so trite, so typical, so unsure.   
  
One would think that after all these years, I would have learned how   
  
to communicate better. There were just some emotions that could not   
  
be put into words. The more I wanted to open my mouth and let them   
  
pour out, the harder it was to find my voice. My tongue felt like   
  
lead inside my mouth, my throat was suddenly parched and my hands   
  
tightened convulsively around the stems of the flowers I held in   
  
my hand.  
  
I glanced up and away from the blossoms and up at the clear sapphire   
  
sky and studied the clouds that drifted lazily past, barely skimming   
  
the brilliant face of the sun. The smell of newly cut grass was rich  
  
in the air. It mingled with the scent of the dying spring, wafting   
  
up my nostrils and making my head spin. It was not an unpleasant   
  
sensation.  
  
I cleared my throat, bit my lower lip, and tried to speak again.   
  
"I'm doing okay," I murmured around the half-hearted smile that   
  
touched my face ever so briefly. I didn't know if I said that to   
  
reassure myself. There was the tiniest hint of a plea in my voice.   
  
I knew there would be no answer so I paused and then attempted to   
  
continue the one-sided conversation.  
  
The tears that suddenly clogged up in my throat choked me into   
  
silence.  
  
There were very few things I regret about my youth. I took a deep   
  
shuddering breath and with a wistful sound, released it. I lifted   
  
a hand to my chest and clutched it into a fist. My heart ached.   
  
I bent to kneel on the ground, wondering if it was only I that heard   
  
the creak of my bones. The breeze blew past, whispering soothingly   
  
into my ears and easing the prick of tears from my eyes.  
  
There was comfort here. It was a pale shadow to the one I'd known   
  
and now longed for, but it was there and I was grateful for it.   
  
I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them,   
  
hugging them to me.  
  
"I wish," I said softly, the words immediately carried from my lips   
  
by the lingering breeze. "I wish I'd known you more." I laughed   
  
softly, mirthlessly. That was a funny thing to say, I suppose, but   
  
the wish burned into my mind. As I have said before, there were very   
  
few things I did regret about my childhood.   
  
Not realizing how much I'd miss you was one of them.  
  
A child was funny that way. I wanted to grow up so badly, to be on   
  
my own. I resented the scoldings, the gentle reprimands, the harsh   
  
punishments. Well, I saw them as harsh at the time. I didn't believe   
  
when I was told they were for my own good. I resisted, fought, accepted   
  
and always thought that the steady, unconditional love that was the   
  
foundation of my home would always be there.  
  
I found others to love outside of my family. In some ways, they   
  
became my family. Everything, I thought, would be okay as long   
  
as these people were by my side. Family faded more and more into   
  
the background. I fought on, surrounded by my friends whom I call   
  
sisters and supported by my beloved. I fought to save the very thing   
  
that was slipping right through my fingers without my knowing it.  
  
I fought for many reasons, but in many ways I fought for you.  
  
For the pancakes you made every morning and the lunches you   
  
carefully packed each school day.  
  
For the way you wore your hair and the smell of the newly washed   
  
clothes you folded so neatly.  
  
For the understanding, irritation, laughter, pain, affection   
  
and anger in your voice.  
  
For everything about you.  
  
I fought for the gentleness of your smile, the care in your hands   
  
and the love that always shone in your eyes.  
  
I fought for every person you stood for.  
  
And after every battle, you were there to welcome me home. You   
  
never asked, never pushed, never demanded. You simply waited in   
  
silence for the explanation you trusted I would give you.  
  
You were there. Always there.  
  
The memories of those days never failed to lift my soul. I   
  
reached down to pluck at the grass, my thoughts trickling to   
  
silence. Peace settled around my shoulders and eased the tension   
  
from my frame. I was at ease now, relaxed for the first time   
  
since I got up this morning with the knowledge that I would be   
  
here today.   
  
"I understand now," I raised my chin from my knees and straightened   
  
ever so slightly, my eyes focused on a blurry dot in the distance   
  
that looked like it could have been a tree.  
  
The years flew by so quickly, didn't they? It was as if only a   
  
moment passed between the time the doctor first settled me into   
  
your arms and the day I was being walked down the aisle. There   
  
was never enough time. There were instances when I would catch   
  
you looking at me with a sadness in your eyes, a wistful smile   
  
on your lips. Then I would blink and the expression would melt   
  
away so fast I thought I'd simply imagined it.  
  
But I didn't, did I?  
  
How many times did you look at me and miss the baby I once was?   
  
Did you ever wonder what happened to the toddler that clung to   
  
your skirt, unwilling to let you out of her sight because you   
  
were everything to her?   
  
I didn't know what people meant when they said that children   
  
grew up too fast. I couldn't grow up fast enough in my eyes.   
  
I didn't realize that your heart might have ached as you wished   
  
that you could hold your baby just one last time, as a little   
  
girl with wide blue eyes and a perfect smile broken by a missing   
  
tooth here or there.  
  
I understand that feeling now.   
  
I am one of those women who gaze at her child and smile with   
  
pride at how much she has grown even as the breath hitches in   
  
my chest and I feel a sudden longing to snatch her up in my   
  
arms and never let go. Many moments I myself have wished that   
  
she would remain a child, forever at my side. However, I know   
  
she must grow up. Time has resumed for her again. Her body is   
  
beginning to catch up with her mind. It has been a long, long   
  
time since my daughter was really a child despite her apearance.  
  
I am grateful to have been given so much time to be with her.  
  
How many years did you have?   
  
Too few.  
  
Always too few.  
  
I remembered the flowers that were still by my side and picked   
  
them up only to put them back down again on the headstone. I   
  
smiled. I still could not talk, could not think, what it was   
  
I felt but I knew you heard me and smiled back.  
  
"The memory of your loss is vague now," I told the name carved   
  
with painstaking care into the marble. The sharp grief that   
  
had overwhelmed me at the news was a faint echo that was swiftly   
  
fading.   
  
It was true. I never truly appreciated what I had until I'd lost   
  
it and there was no way of getting it back. A part of me died that   
  
day. The little girl within me will never stop missing her mommy.   
  
I refuse to let her. I will never forget.  
  
I touched my fingers on my lips and then skimmed them over the   
  
stone before rising to my feet and turning to look over my shoulder.   
  
A shining city rose up against the horizon.  
  
"There hasn't been any battles for a long time," I told the wind,   
  
the sky, the sun, and my mother. "But I know my city will one   
  
day fall. This is the way of the Universe. Everything has a   
  
beginning and everything must have an end."   
  
I, too, will one day die. However, I am certain that before that   
  
day, or soon after it, I must fight again. Perhaps in my next life   
  
or perhaps in this one, I don't know when. I only know I must.  
  
This was the path I'd chosen for myself. I know that somewhere   
  
my mother was proud.  
  
"I will do my best," I promised her as I have promised countless   
  
times before. "For you." With a little wave, I walked away.  
  
I'll be back again. No matter how far I've gone, how long I've   
  
been away or who I have become, I always return to the beginning.   
  
Why? To remember the ones that loved me for being me. Neo-Queen   
  
Serenity I may be now and loved by many, but once upon a time I   
  
was simply Tsukino Usagi. My family, my mother, loved me no less   
  
for being a simple, klutzy girl with below average grades.   
  
It was because of that love that I am who I am today.  
  
I paused before stepping into the arms of the man who was my   
  
soulmate and glanced back.   
  
"Mamma?"  
  
A smile, painfully tender, curved my lips. I turned to face   
  
the child who had spoken and bent to gather her gently into my arms.   
  
I felt my husband's arm encircle my waist as I rose. We stood like   
  
that for a moment before we began the short walk home.  
  
________________________________________________________________  
  
More Author's Notes:  
  
Yes, I have been missing in action recently haven't I? I've been   
  
in boot camp. ;p No! I'm quite serious. *sage nod*   
  
The fourth chapter of The Rose should be up. . . soon. I am rewriting   
  
it again. I'm very frustrated with it. *bewildered* It just won't   
  
turn out right. I will hopefully get my muses back. One of them has   
  
already returned. He's an elf with long rainbow-colored hair. He loves   
  
chocolate cake. He is aptly named Skittles. Skit for short. He's the   
  
happy one. Dina is not working well with the cheerful muse who thinks  
  
Chocobo music is classical music.  
  
In fact, Dina may just want to stuff him down the bathroom sink.   
  
*insane cackle*  
  
*blinks* Uhhh. . . I'm gonna go eat a cookie. . .   
  
*mutters and stomps off*  
  
Always,  
  
Dina 


End file.
